


Finished

by GhostNarratives



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bombing, Bombs, Drama, Gun Violence, Other, Police, Terrorism, Terrorists, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28923942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostNarratives/pseuds/GhostNarratives
Summary: Howard, a police officer had tracked down the terrorist to the University building. Time was against him. Would he be able to stop the criminal alone?
Kudos: 1





	Finished

\- There is nothing else to do. - said the professor.

\- Don't fuck with me! - yelled the policeman.

Howard was breathing heavily from all the running. Arriving at the university during the blizzard demanded him all the energy he had left.

The gun was trembling in his hand while aimlessly pointing at the professor.

The professor merely looked at him. An expression of sadness and sorrow on his face. His coat was a worn-out mess. One of the sleeves was missing and what would've been a white shirt in the past was showing below.

\- I am not trying to deceive you or anything of the sorts, officer... - the professor took a while to look at the plaque on the officer's chest - McNair.

\- The hell you're not! - yelled Howard again - Stop that fucking thing now! Give me the detonator!

The professor sighed.

\- My name is Trevor, by the way. Pleased to make your acquaintance. - he said calmly.

Howard moved towards the professor, punching him in the face and throwing him face down against the table in the front of the room.

\- Put your fucking arms back! - ordered McNair twisting Trevor's arms and cuffing him violently.

The professor didn't protest. Not even when the officer searched him.

There was no detonator, Howard realized in horror. He knew he had the right man! Undoubtedly!

Howard saw him on the factory CCTV, stealing the components. The man wasn't hiding his face. He had blown up dozens of buildings over the past month.

\- WHERE THE FUCK IS IT?! - Howard shouted, throwing Trevor against the wall and punching his face again.

The professor fell on the ground coughing.

The police officer opened the drawers on the desk, searching, clueless, for anything that could be a detonator.

Trevor sat, back against the wall. He looked at the window. The blizzard was raging outside. The night was dark. Yet he knew he would be able to see it in a few.

\- Look. I know you've been in this case for over a month. - he said without taking his eyes off the window - But there is no stopping it. There is no detonator.

Howard kicked the desk that fell on the floor with a crash.

\- You're lying! - he yelled in fury.

\- If you had worked with your colleagues of the police force, maybe you could be evacuating the buildings now. But your radio doesn't work here. Does it?

It didn't. Howard tried it the moment he arrived at the university. If he had radioed before... when he discovered the targets... maybe...

\- FUCK! - shouted McNair going towards Trevor and pressing his gun against the professor's left eye.

\- I'll shoot you in the fucking face if you don't tell me how to stop this.

With one eye, Trevor looked down and sighed yet again.

\- I am sorry. There is no stopping this. And there is nothing that you can do. Shoot me if that is going to make you happy.

Howard punched the professor on the stomach and stood up while the man curled on the floor.

Howard was hyperventilating.

He was so eager to prove himself. So tired of being the garbage of the force. He was so sure he could stop the terrorist alone, just a fucking psycho! Just a crazy piece of shit!

\- Yes. - said the professor as listening to his thoughts - You let everyone down. As did I.

The officer tried the radio again. Just static.

\- You should just watch this with me. You are, after all, as responsible as I am.

Officer McNair went to the professors' suitcase on the floor and opened it.

\- However, I do advise you to watch from a safe distance...

He threw the papers to the side. Pictures of the bombed buildings. Banks, huge companies, monuments, the parliament...

\- As this one also does not have a detonator or any other means to stop it. - finished the professor letting the room fall into silence. Even the officer’s breathing had stopped.

He heard a beep.

Howard knew before he even touched it. Another bomb inside the suitcase.

\- What... - he babbled.

\- You really thought I wanted to escape? - Trevor asked with his voice full of pity - Oh poor man. No. I want this to end.

\- No, no, no, NO!!

Howard stood up looking at the device. He pointed his gun at it, and then to the professor still sitting on the floor. A ragged man.

\- I guess you have two to five minutes to leave and run as fast as you can. You will be safe after you leave the building.

Howard began to hyperventilate again. There was nothing to do?! Nothing?! He would be first at the crime scene? After avoiding his comrades?

\- Are you looking at me for an answer? - asked the professor in pity again - Do what you always did, officer McNair. Follow your own essence.

And so Howard did. He ran as fast as he could past the doors in the hallway, jumping steps on the stairs.

When he finally reached the front door he heard the blast like thunder and closed his eyes. He waited for fire and rubble to cover him and the excruciating pain that would come with it, but there was none.

Looking ahead, through the blizzard, he saw a faint red light against the sky. It was the parliament.

Howard ran again towards the snow, trying to put as much distance between him and the university building when the explosion hit him, throwing him face down against the cold snow.

For a moment, Howard was blind and deaf. His back was burning and he couldn't breathe. He turned face up.

The cold snow against his back brought a relieving sensation. His body was heavy, but his breathing was now calm. He wondered why, while he couldn't listen. Then the sound of sirens hit him.

"I'm fucking finished..." he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Do not copy, repost or edit this work.  
> ...  
> This is from a series of exercises. I’m working on short stories that allow me to write more about different subjects.  
> Not much to say about this one. I guess I wanted to explore the relationship between a man who has nothing to lose and one who has everything to lose.


End file.
